As a highschool freshman I saw JH for the first time.
I never told her that I fell in love with her when I first saw her.
I never told her that before I saw her, at 14 years old, I didn’t think I was any sort of s******** whatsoever. I had never been attracted to anyone at all.
I never told her she is the only person I have ever said that I love without it being, at least partly, just good manners.
I never told her that after I met her, no one has ever stopped my heart since.
I never told her that for two years, the reason I was known to get swats or detention is because I was late to one class every day just so I could pass her in the hallway and say hi.
I never told her that laying on my bed after the choir banquet, just holding each other in the soft pink light of her glow neckalace, was the most complete I have ever felt.
I never told her she was my first kiss.
I never told her that, once, I saw her from behind, years after our last interaction, and thought I had fallen in love with someone else.
I never told her that the reason I left her dorm at 5:30 am was because I was a nervous wreck after not seeing her for years, and still, I felt.. Unworthy.
I never thanked her for being my muse.
I never told her that she is the reason I sang.
I never told her how devastated I was to see her with Beefcake-Marine at the dance she and I hosted for a good friend’s homecoming, and how deeply it cut me when she described, about him, what I feel for her.
I have never apologized to our mutual friend for skipping out of the dance when she only had one night to stay.
When she cried on my shoulder, and described how the Marine and his buddies had shamed her out of her virginity, and how after the Marine finished too soon, he made her pretend to moan while he rocked the headboard, so that he could go out to his cheering friends and not be embarrassed. He made it seem like a game, and when she described this to me, I cried for her, too, but it was dark and she never knew.
It was the first time I had cried for another.
It was my first feeling of empathy.
I never told her how happy I was to hear that they were through.
I never told her how sad I was to hear she was going to his university.

I can’t tell you how hurt I was to drive 40 miles to pick you up for your first “college party” at my house, and you left with the guitarist.
I have never told you I am sorry for driving 40 miles to get you, for another party, just to do the same thing to you, as what you had done to me.
I never told you that even though it cost me my fiance, I cherish the handwritten letters we shared while I was in basic training: they feel like “good” things.
I never told you that the dumbest thing I have ever done is tell you that I couldn’t be with you after you became pregnant and asked if I would still take you.
I never told you of the strange and unique emotion I feel when I think that your son has my name, and he could have been my son, too..
I never told you that he is beautiful.
I never told you I met another.
I never told you anything after that..

I never told you that Nat King Cole still makes me cry.
I never told you how, on the night I proposed to my wife, I cried in bed until sunrise, and I had to do it so softly I felt like water in a hose when you put your thumb over it.
I never told you that you are the reason I sing.
I never told you how ashamed I am of how much you were on my mind on the day of my wedding.

I will never tell you that my vision noticeably dimmed when, 6 month after I, you announced your engagement.
………..
My voice is slowly losing it’s strength: I do not sing at all.
My instruments go untouched.
I work that I might have a bed at night.
Sleep is my only pleasure, when even then, is it just to call a lack of pain a pleasure?
Our ten year reunion is fast approaching.
Ten years.. I cannot remember your face outside of pictures. This thought draws a tear.
I will never hold you again.